


This doesn't feel like love, but I don't have anything to compare it too

by Anonymous



Category: Lost in Translation (Webcomic)
Genre: Abuse, Aged down Kang Dongho, Angst, Crying, Family Issues, Hes a child here, Hurt, Hurt No Comfort, i think, vent - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:35:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27062050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Dongho was just so... Done with it all.With everything he did, his parents always found some way to belittle him, paint his as the problem, andgod,did it fucking hurt.Sometimes, he would stay up late at night, praying to someone, somewhere, that he could get out, escape somewhere happier, but he knew that would never be possible.He knew.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8
Collections: Anonymous





	This doesn't feel like love, but I don't have anything to compare it too

**Author's Note:**

> Ayo vent check

Dongho was just so... Done with it all.

With everything he did, his parents always found some way to belittle him, paint his as the problem, and _god,_ , did it fucking hurt.

Sometimes, he would stay up late at night, praying to someone, somewhere, that he could get out, escape somewhere happier, but he knew that would never be possible. 

He knew.

He would cower as they yelled at him, for something as small as a squeak from his bed, to something as big as spilling a bowl of hot food, maybe even breaking the bowl in the process.

It would always end being his own fault.

It would always be his fault, and he was starting to get used to it.

Not the yelling or berating, no, but that he was the problem. That if he had just _been_ better, nothing would have ever happened.

Tears prick his eyes as his father yells at him.

His bed broke, all by accident. 

All he had done was turn over, staring at the wall for the umpteenth time that night, but _snap._

He stood, back pressed against the wall, hands gripping onto the hem of his shirt as he begged his tears to not fall.

It was over soon enough, thankfully. His bed was fixed. Miraculously, it was only the bolts and screws that had come out, so putting them back in wasn't too tough.

But their words.

 _His_ words.

He felt the back of his throat burn, darkness finally enveloping him as he hurried under the covers of his newly fixed bed.

He tried to will his tears away, but you can only bottle things up for so long.

Soon they'll come pouring out.

One tear slipped.

Then two.

Three, four, _five—_

Oh.

He was crying now.

His throat burned, his lungs hurt with every inhale, and he could feel the tears soaking through his shirt as he wiped at them, hoping they would stop any second.

It was... So small, what had happened.

He feels stupid, for crying at something so small, when he didn't even cry when he got hurt jumping off the playground.

This happens all the time, he tells himself.

Another tear slips past his face.

 _All_ the time.

It's then, that he realises, that no matter how many times something happens, it will always hurt.

Its then that he thinks, _'Do they love me?'_

_'Do they love me, for their son? For who I am? Do they ever wonder if they've gone too far, have they thought about saying sorry after screaming at me like a banshee?'_

It's also then, that he realises he can't tell.

School says parents love you unconditionally, and that they always do something to help you.

So, if schools right, this is to benefit him.

All the yelling, all the hurtful words, all the times they gave him a slap on the wrist, or hit his head a little too _hard—_

It was for the best.

He stayed still in his bed.

It was uncomfortable, sleeping on his back.

But he didn't want the bed to squeak. 

He didn't want them to come again.

For now, he would drown in his pitiful tears, convincing himself his parents knew what was best for him and that they loved him.

He would push away his thoughts telling him otherwise.


End file.
